St Valentine
by Syrinx
Summary: Rogue and chocolate. Ororo and Logan with snow. Fun fluff.


Title: St. Valentine  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimer: Marvel owns them. With the amount of money I have I will never own them.  
Summary: It's Valentine's Day, and that means either anguish or fun. In this case there's a little bit of both.   
Author's Note: I don't know what category this would be... If only they had a category for cute fluff... This is Ororo's lighter side, by the way. I know it's in there somewhere. 

  
  


"We should get back to the Roman Empire," Ororo said as she picked up another card, the six of spades. She stared at it for a moment, determining if it was worthy to add to her hand. She had the seven and the four, she reasoned, tapping the card against the table top, deliberating.

"Yeah," Rogue answered, watching Ororo finally slide the card into place in her hand and discard the queen of hearts. 

"But I've got no where to be," Rogue shrugged, picking up the queen quickly and adding it to her hand, discarding a five of spades.

Ororo smiled and picked up the card, nodding. "But this has been your fourth study break in only an hour. We still have to get through the Roman Republic."

"I know," Rogue sighed, watching Ororo throw down a discard, face down. She put her cards on the table in defeat and sat back in her chair, eyeing the notebook and text she still had to go through with Ms. Munroe. 

"What did the Romans ever do that was important anyway?" Rogue scoffed, pushing her rich brown hair over her shoulders, reaching up to play with the clump of white strands that framed her face. 

Ororo smiled at Rogue and gathered up the deck, sliding the playing cards back into the box. "Well, we certainly can't play another game of gin with that attitude."

Rogue frowned and narrowed her eyes at the textbook before reaching over and dragging the heavy thing up to her, opening it and flipping to page 78, reading the first words. The Roman Republic.

Absently, Rogue pulled her right hand out of its glove and reached for another chocolate, popping it into her mouth and chewing. 

"Do you want one?" Rogue asked Ororo for the seventh time that night, holding up the box.

"I'm fine, thank you," Ororo shook her head, noticing three quarters of the box was already gone. "Didn't you just get those today from Bobby?"

"Yeah," Rogue swallowed, taking another from the box.

"That's a lot of chocolate to eat in one night," Ororo rose an eyebrow, watching Rogue chew, swallow, and reach for another one.

"I know," Rogue shrugged, holding the piece of chocolate in front of her face, frowning at it. "I just want to get it all gone so I don't have to look at it anymore."

"May I ask why?" Ororo asked after a moment of silence, watching Rogue pop the chocolate into her mouth.

"Why?" Rogue laughed, swallowing and reaching for her glass of water. "Because Bobby gave it to me," Rogue frowned, pausing before she grabbed another chocolate from the box, her bare hand dangling over the next victim.

"Is that not a good thing?" Ororo asked, watching Rogue snatch up the next chocolate, her hand pausing before her mouth.

"Well," Rogue sputtered. "Normally it would."

Ororo watched Rogue consume the small block of chocolate, the young girl making a face and pushing the box away. 

"Can I ask what's wrong?" Ororo asked, sensing the tirade that followed.

"What's wrong is that I've got these chocolates from Bobby, but they don't really matter because he also gave Kitty roses - and they were red ones! So, how am I supposed to feel about these stupid chocolates? Aren't roses supposed to be better than chocolates? How does someone even rate something like that? And, why didn't he give them both to me?" 

"Rogue," Ororo smiled, pulling the chocolates over and pulling one from the box, slipping it into her mouth. "They are good chocolates."

"But that's not the point!" Rogue cried, shaking her head. "I hate Valentine's Day! It's always like this. Always. The popular girls get roses. Always. I never got roses."

"You still have a long time to wait for them," Ororo pointed out, putting the lid back on the box of chocolates and sitting them on the chair next to her, away from Rogue's sight. 

Rogue pouted, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Jean and Scott went out to dinner in the city," she added. "I bet they're having a great time. They were going dancing. Yet again something I'm not doing."

"You're only seventeen," Ororo said softly, "There's plenty of time for that."

"Sure," Rogue grumbled, keeping her arms crossed. "When this horrible day is over, that's when I'll be happy again."

Ororo rose an eyebrow and leaned forward, closing the textbook. Rogue frowned at it, and then threw a questioning look at her teacher and tutor. 

"I'll tell you what," Ororo said. "The tutoring session is over. We got all the way through Alexander this time. That's something of an accomplishment."

"What about the Romans?" Rogue asked, pulling her notebook over.

"Well, I was going to tell you the origin of Valentine's Day, but I don't think you're up for it."

"Oh," Rogue frowned, sitting up. "Okay."

"Go take a break and sleep in tomorrow," Ororo smiled. "Today is Friday, after all."

"Right," Rogue nodded. "Thanks, Ms. Munroe."

The young girl got up and pulled together her things, heading for the stairwell before she paused and turned around, her mouth opening.

"Just out of curiosity," Rogue began, pulling her books in front of her chest. "What are the origins of Valentine's Day?"

Ororo looked up from the sofa, and smiled quietly. "Oh, the Romans used to hold a fertility festival in February where half naked men ran through the streets hitting women with lashes to encourage reproduction."

There was a moment of silence as Rogue stared at Ororo, her eyes narrowing.

"You're kidding," Rogue declared from the doorway.

Ororo laughed and shrugged. "I wish I could tell you I was."

Rogue shook her head and turned around, calling over her shoulder as she headed for the stairs: "Things haven't gotten any better!"

  
  


The snow was falling thickly, the large flakes swirling down to the earth, sweeping through the light of the lamps outside and flashing silver in between the reflected rays of the moon.

Ororo stood outside the french doors of the mansion, watching the blizzard fall. Softly, she set her fingertips against the cold glass, pulling back to see her fingerprints marring the perfect surface. It had been snowing for hours through the night, layering the frozen ground with accumulating inches of wet powder, looking soft and inviting under the light night sky. 

Ororo wrapped her arms closer around her cream colored sweater, feeling the cold radiating through the glass in icy fingers, reaching out and grabbing her. Quietly she walked back across the room, grabbing her knee length wool coat and shrugging into it, buttoning the necessary buttons and heading back to the door, frost gathering slowly on the window panes.

She pulled up the hood of her coat and opened the door, stepping into the frenzy of frozen water, and closing it softly behind her.

The flakes immediately began to catch on the brim of her hood, falling and halting, dangling on the coarse fibers of her coat. She walked down the porch and through the courtyard, her feet stamping through the white blanket, small piles of snow gathering on the toes of her boots.

She stopped tentatively and looked up at the sky, large wet flakes falling on her cheeks and clinging to her lashes as she watched the clouds clear, the full moon shining down, a few stars rotating in the sky, their tiny pinpricks of light barely felt so far away. 

"Something interesting up there, 'Ro?"

Ororo jumped and spun around, cursing Logan's irritatingly hushed footfalls.

"Nothing any different than usual," Ororo answered, facing Logan, the snow dancing between them, the white stuff a startling contrast as it landed in Logan's dark hair. 

"So what, 'Ro? No date for the evening?"

Ororo arched a white eyebrow at him through the curtain of snow, feeling another flake crash into her forehead, breaking apart and catching on her eyelashes.

"Hardly, Logan," she answered, pulling the hood from her face, her long white hair lured into the subtle wintry breeze. "Valentines stopped being eventful long ago."

"That so?" He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking up next to her. 

"That is so," Ororo answered, looking up at the sky again, watching the clouds move over the moon, their dark edges shimmering with the reflected silver over the deep dark of the night.

"Good to see you ain't broken up about it," Logan said gruffly, looking up at the sky with her. 

"Why would I be broken up about it?" Ororo asked, frowning up at the sky. "I came across that realization long ago. After Forge."

"Forge," Logan muttered, pulling out a cigar from his jacket pocket and taking his time lighting it, throwing the lit match into the wet snow at his feet where it sizzled out. "Should I know that name?"

Ororo looked over at him blankly and shook her head. "No," she said slowly, looking down, her hair trailing across her face in the wind. "Time's past. Years, to be correct."

"Before me and Marie," Logan suggested and Ororo nodded.

"Yes," she said, sighing up at the sky. "Jean had Scott - has Scott - and I had Forge. It was long ago."

"Still bitter, huh," he stated simply, bringing the cigar to his mouth and inhaling deeply, pulling it away and exhaling, watching the smoke drift away in the rain of white. 

"Excuse me?" Ororo asked, casting her startling blue eyes on him. "I am not bitter."

Logan grinned, shrugging. "Think what you like, darlin'. Doesn't make you right."

"I cannot believe this," Ororo sighed, looking away and rolling her eyes to herself. "I am far from bitter, Logan."

"Resigned? That a better word?"

"I am not resigned!"

"Pouting?" 

"Logan," she threatened, putting her hands on her hips and staring at him incredulously. "Please."

He arched an eyebrow at her and puffed more on his cigar, finally pulling it away from his mouth and asked as smoke poured out of his mouth, "Denial?" 

"That is it," Ororo growled, leaning down and scooping up a handful of snow, packing it into a well shaped ball as Logan just watched her with amusement. "One more word out of your mouth..."

"Brooding."

With that, Ororo threw the well packed snow ball and hit Logan directly in the mouth, knocking the cigar to the snow, smoke curling up from the white ground.

"Shit, 'Ro!"

"I am not brooding!"

"Come on."

With that, Ororo scooped up another handful of snow and threw it at him, the white clump exploding on his chest. 

"You have not been here more than four months in your entire life, and you say I'm resigned? I am far from resigned!"

"Hey, sweetheart, I'm just callin' it as I see it."

She scowled at him and picked up another handful of snow, bigger this time, and sent it sailing into his arm.

"I swear to God, 'Ro. If you throw one more snow ball at me..."

Ororo rose her eyebrows, gave him an evilly satisfied smirk, and bent down again, scooping up another ball, and made contact with his abdomen.

"That's it," he growled, making his own snow ball and throwing it at her, hitting her in the knee.

"Logan!"

"What? All's fair in war, darlin'."

Ororo narrowed her eyes at him and made another snow ball, throwing it hard and connecting with his shoulder.

At that, the war was on. Ororo backpedaled and ran as he took off after her, chasing her through the courtyard as the snow came down, swirling around them as they ran, throwing balls of snow in their haste. 

They covered most of the backside of the mansion before Logan finally caught her as she tried to skirt around him, grinning like a fool and slipping in the icy snow. 

She screamed as he picked her up, kicking her legs so hard he lost his balance in the snow and fell, throwing her over to her back in the soft wet snow.

"Are you done yet?" He asked, moving to straddle her hips, throwing one leg over her body and pushing her arms into the snow, soaking her wool coat.

"No," Ororo protested, biting back a laugh. 

"Uh-huh. That's too bad, because you lost."

"I did not lose!" Ororo growled, straining against his hands as he held her down easily, smiling.

He pressed down on her harder, bringing his face close to her's, their breath coming quickly. 

"I think you did, darlin'. You want to declare a truce?"

Ororo paused, ceasing her fighting, looking up at him from the ground. "I suppose this is futile."

He grinned down at her. "Truce then."

"Oh, all right," Ororo groaned, still trying to wiggle out of his death grip on her wrists. 

"'Ro, that ain't gonna work," Logan softly informed her, leaning down further, looking into her blue eyes as she suddenly looked back up at him, stilling underneath his weight.

He stared at her carefully for a moment, watching her tongue dart out to wet her lips in the cold of the snow and the wind. She could feel a blush rising in her cheeks as she diverted her gaze from his dark eyes, instead watching the cold snow rush down at her, catching in his hair and softly settle on the dark gray of her coat. 

Suddenly he let go of her wrists, standing up over her and offering his hand. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked up at him silently, taking his hand. He pulled her up, stepping back and watching her brush off her coat, busy not looking at him.

Finally he walked up to her and tipped up her chin so he could see her face, looking into her blue eyes.

"Logan," she began, but he cut her off, shaking his head.

"You ain't resigned," he said gruffly. "I had no right..."

"It's alright," Ororo interrupted, giving him a small smile. "I actually had a good time."

He stopped for a moment, and then smiled at her, the snow tumbling down between them.


End file.
